This is Kai; they were being offered as a prize for a carnival game but managed to escape! Now they are trying to integrate into society - good luck little fella!
summary: you have a very questionable situation with the man of your dreams. literally.
relationship(s): reader/yagi toshinori (all might)
word count: 938
warning(s): 18+, MINORS DNI
author's note: originally written for @lavenderovercast of their oc, but edited it for reader x toshinori. specifially small might because i love him. if you enjoyed this, any interaction is appreciated ♡ if anyone would like this rewritten for male, gender neutral or otherwise, please let me know!!
tags: small might, fem!reader, cheating reader, well not really because it's a dream, emotional cheating?, whatever it is probably isn't morally correct, very guilty conscience. but it's sexy??
🍯 prefer to read on ao3? 🍯
The room is hot. So fucking hot.
Maybe it’s the fact that Japan was experiencing a dry spell, not even an ounce of any signs of rain for the last four days. Or, perhaps, it’s because Toshinori was moaning into your ear, breathy and so, so hot against you. If you weren’t so warm in your cheeks, and so very much distracted by the man’s very large fingers rubbing against your clit, you might’ve giggled as the air tickled your skin.
Nothing seems very funny right now and, to be honest, your thoughts have been a garbled mess for the past few minutes. It was only the feeling of perspiration clinging to your back that had awakened the internal complaint—Though, really, you had absolutely nothing to complain about when Toshinori’s rough, calloused fingers swirled so hypnotically on your pussy.
“Fuck,” You gasp out, a familiar pressure building inside your stomach. If the man continued this much longer, you’d come apart. There was something embarrassing about that, even though you trusted him with your entire life… Perhaps it was because this had all come on so unexpectedly, and you should feel shame about this, you should think about your husband—But, shit, it felt so fucking good.
The blonde man lifted his soft lips from your neck, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. The pressure wanes, and you realise that his hands have slowed their pace. His voice, deliciously gravelly and cracking from lust, asks softly, “Are you okay? Does that hurt?”
Oh god. You can’t stand it; you want him so fucking bad that it hurts. You don't deserve this man, this moment, anything—But there’s something so delightfully wicked about everything that the two of you shouldn’t be doing, and you don't ever want it to stop. Emphatically, you shake your head, and your hand slides up his neck to grip roughly at his hair. The other hand cups his in-between your thighs, and you push his hand closer. “P-Please, don’t. I’m almost there, Yagi. I…” It seemed impossible for your cheeks to blush anymore than they currently were, but you felt them warm even deeper. “I want to cum for you.”
Toshinori is at a complete loss for words. His body betrays him to show this fact very clearly as his jaw falls open, and his tongue feels thick in his mouth. It takes a moment for him to regain his composure, and he finally clears his throat before looking at the person in front him with such softness and high regard that you suddenly think about covering yourself up. You don't, because you want more than anything for this to continue, but you can’t help but feel vulnerable under his dark-eyed gaze. After what felt like a lifetime, he responded, “I would like that, more than anything. I want to make you happy—”
And suddenly, you’re pulling his face towards yours and wrapping your mouth around his. Your heart aches, but your pussy aches even more to feel him again. You don't know if you’ll ever get this chance laid before you again, and you can’t stand living with your regrets any longer. You wanted him; you’d wanted him for years, since you’d been classmates in America. You should’ve been braver, shouldn’t have run away from him, should’ve made yourself confess to him and claim what had felt like yours forever. If you wouldn’t have that chance again, then you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make this memory last a lifetime.
Your tongue slips into his mouth, and the feel of his own—shy at first, though still so, so curious—feels like heaven. Then there’s fire, burning, and metallic iron mixed with a hint of peppermint as Toshinori noticeably relaxes in your hands like clay and his own tongue slides against yours. Your breaths mingles together, and you aren’t sure if the moan you heard was just your own, or his, or the two of you together.
Your hands are everywhere—in his hair, brushing against his shoulders, cupping his cheeks. You can’t get enough, it feels like you’ve been starving for this for your whole existence, and this is where you’re meant to be and—
With a jerk, you awaken. Your skin is clammy, your hair is sticking to your head, and you feel an urgent need to get out of your pyjamas now.
But you’re still not fully conscious, and the thought is quickly removed from your mind as your hand instinctively reaches out for the body beside you. His skin is cold, so lushly cold, and you magnetically shuffle closer to him, your face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
You ignore the fact that the scent that washes over you isn’t the same as the one you’d relished in your dreams, instead cupping a hand against his stubbly cheek, disregarding that the one you truly wanted to touch was clean shaven, and pulling him in for a kiss. There is no inferno or iron, only the slight heaviness of sleep.
“Sweetheart?” In a voice that doesn’t feel right, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that you can think about is that you need this, and you know you’re a horrible, disgusting person that doesn’t deserve any of it—
But warm hands, cold at the fingertips, finally, finally reach for you and you can feel his hair brushing against your cheek. It’s similar in shape, and your fingers have expertly explored it over the years, and if you just close your eyes and dream, it’s blond and spiky, and perfect.
Even if it doesn’t belong to the man you really want.
Rating the birds in my backyard by tendency toward violence
Northern Cardinal, 4/10
I'm sometimes worried the male is sexually harassing the female but I'm pretty sure they're just doing some elaborate public pickup roleplay. The rest of us didn't agree to participate in your kink, guys.
American Robin, 1/10
Literally just some dude hanging out. Never bothered anyone but worms. Big fan of the way you just stand there in the middle of the grass like you forgot what you were supposed to be doing.
House Sparrow, 10/10
You're a gang. You're participating in gang violence. There's ten billion of you living in a single wood pile and it's been civil war for three years now. When will the bloodshed end?
Tufted Titmouse, 1/10
A shy baby. A pretty little guy. I saw you on the neighbor's garage roof and time stopped. There were anime sparkles around you. Come back.
European Starling, 9/10
Why is it always you? Listen, I know, I KNOW the sparrows are the problem, and YET. When the fighting starts, it's always you in the middle of it, provoking them and then screaming like you're an innocent bystander defending yourself. I'm onto you.
Carolina Wren, 3/10
This rating is not for physical violence, which you don't engage in, but for your role as an incurable narc. A tattle tale. I know they're fighting again, okay? I see it. Our yard has been a warzone for years, you don't have to make a big announcement every time someone misbehaves.
Eastern Wood-Peewee, 0/10
If this were "birds who think they're better than everyone else," you'd get 10/10.
Red-bellied Woodpecker, 6/10
It's a utility pole. It's not a tree. You're surrounded by trees that are full of bugs. But there you are, on the utility pole. Committing vandalism.
American Crow, unrated
For who am I to cast judgment on the actions of La Famiglia? I assume you are doing what is best for the neighborhood. If I could, though, without criticism, make a single observation. That when large numbers of you gather in the ominous dead cottonwood - no? No, you're right. None of my business.
Great Crested Flycatcher, 5/10
Frankly, I think you could be doing more. I think your name implies a great potential. I think you should massacre the insects. I think your beak should drip with viscera.
La Famiglia does not suffer you to stop in our neighborhood long, and I trust their judgement in this manner. You have the look of a guilty bird.
Tennessee Warbler, 2/10
You keep to yourselves, and I respect that. I get the sense that you could defend yourselves if it came to it, though.
Brown-Headed Cowbird, 3/10
You're not a crow, and eventually they ARE going to figure it out, kiddo.
Gray Catbird, 5/10
Would you. Respectfully. Would you shut the FUCK UP.
Eurasian Collared-Dove, 0/10
You're doing great, sweetie, everyone loves you.
Red-Breasted Nuthatch, 4/10
A comedian. A little jester of a bird. You're so silly. Sure sometimes you incite violence in others but, really, is that your fault? If it is, we forgive you.
Blue Jay, 12/10
If you could learn any human behavior you wanted, it would be how to build a bomb.
Honorable mention:
Turkey Vulture, 5/10
You weren't in my backyard, but you WERE eating roadkill in the street in my neighborhood. I know the animal was already dead when you got there, but you get violence points for frightening the small children that walked past you. Incredible work.
Look I swear I'm not here to start bird drama but the Carolina wren ABSOLUTELY engages in violence, it's just that it is intra-species. I once walked up on two of them rolling around on the ground so involved in trying to kill each other that they didn't even attempt to get away from me. I ended up having to physically separate them and walk one bloodied combatant to the other side of the property to get them to stop. These little guys are a thin covering of feathers over rage and possessiveness that is targeted towards every desirable shrub they can see and it is no joke.
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